April 10th, 2011
April 10th, 2011 Packing up is always the worst. No matter how many times I am subjected to it, it's always the most annoying task about moving. Except for two things. My parents. Oh, god, I hate them, so much. Constantly being forced to move, never having friends, always forced to doing my own packing. They don't even pretend like we're not going to move again. The house is only filled with my items, most of which I don't bother to unpack. My name is Robert Hawke, and I'm not stupid. They blame me for insisting to live where my ancestors did. Japan is a beautiful place, but they have no respect for that. Changing their names, becoming Americans, all of it is just so selfish of them. I know my grandfather wasn't a good man, but to shun your entire homeland because of it? And trying to force your child to, as well? Screw that. After several years of pleading and arguing, they let me come to Japan for schooling. Naturally, I was behind. Even more so, everyone had drawn up expectations of this Western-raised boy. Instead, they got a socially awkward and quiet individual who spends all of his time reading manga, studying diligently, and who isolated himself due to his lack of social skills. But whatever. '' ''I started acting out against my parents, only three years ago. Call it ressentiment, if you wish. My silver hair, my awkward haircut, and my constant shaming of Western culture. Every time they visited, I'm sure they could understand my resentment towards them. I have no friends, no social skills, no family, and no one to care for. My grandfather died not long ago, and he left all of his money with me, urging me in his will to break out from my scumbag parents. For the normal kid, they would take offense to this. I, personally, was delighted to hear it. At this turning point, my parents may have had a change of heart. Maybe they finally got it. They said I could attend a small school outside of Kyoto, and they would live with me for once. For my first year in high school, we had finally been reunited as a family. I finally had hope that I would be their son. They were truly impressed by my academics, and they ensured that I could finally make a few decent friends. Naturally, I wasn't popular, but many people saw me as the level-headed negotiator. I was a member of the student council, and that year we made record improvements in test scores, attendance, and conflict resolution. My parents finally came to understand the culture I valued so much, and for once, we were together. That all changed when the capitalist nation called. Of course, their jobs were always very commanding. Even they were caught unaware by the transfer. After a whole year of stable work, they get dragged off, all the way to some office in Virginia. They asked if I wanted to attend school there, and they weren't surprised when I refused. So tomorrow, I ride a train into Yasoinaba station. Inaba City, where I will stay for my entire Junior Year. City is a little kind, however. The location is relatively unexciting and isolated. Nevertheless, I get to live with my uncle, Dojima. I have no idea how fond he is of his sister, my mother, but I suppose well enough that I'm moving in with him. I have heard he has a daughter, and his wife died not too many years ago. Hopefully, we'll be able to act like family to each other. I don't expect them to warm up to me. '' I threw the last of my manga into a cardboard box that I'd used so many times before. ''Do I sound bitter? Probably. I tend to when I talk to myself. As I close the cardboard box, I walk down the unlit corridor to my bedroom. As I reach the mirror, I turn on the light. My hair, silver as it was when my parents moved in with me. My grandfather always watched over me here, and he thought it looked sporting. Gradually, he got older and sicker, and I got sadder and more independent. After he died, my parents came to live with me, and I had high hopes. Alas, they were dashed once more. ''My blue gray eyes looked dull, and it was clear to me I needed sleep. I was about six feet, and very slim. Not to say I was nonathletic. I had been on the basketball team at my last school, and though I wasn't the best player, I had practiced religiously. I turn off the light as I enter my room and silently close the door behind me. As I turned on my bedroom light, I noticed the locket on my wardrobe. On the back, the name “Narukami” shined. My grandfather said it was a family heirloom, and the first thing my father had forsaken when he moved from Japan. Dad said it was too much a mouthful. Changed his last name to Hawke, and better yet, misspelled it. My mother never said why she disliked our home country so much, but I never bothered to ask. Maybe Ryotaro, my uncle, knew. Should I really ask him, though? Maybe not. '' I grazed the locket with my open hand before setting it back down. I looked down at my plain gray shirt and white pajama pants. I shrugged and move my covers before lying down on my bed. Last night for a bed. Dojima only had a futon for me. Not that I mean to complain, but it would certainly be different than what I was accustomed to. As I fell asleep, I thought about what my new school would be like, and if I could make any friends. Better yet, could I be able to stay in contact with them? The weirdest thing I've ever heard in my sleep before was someone yelling Penis. Now, it was the sound of a car starting up in the middle of nowhere. Rather, the noise came from around me, as if I was inside it. The jerking was what woke me up. As I opened my eyes and sat up, I notice that I'm sitting on a velvet seat, like in the back of a limousine. Not that I'd ever seen one before. It wasn't for another moment that I noticed other people in the limousine with me. The entire interior was blue, and even the clothes of one of my fellow occupants wore only blue, velvet clothes. The other occupant horrified me as I looked upon him. He had an abnormally long nose, and he wore a fancy tuxedo. He had weird and oddly shaped eyebrows, and his head rested on his right hand, his left hand supporting his right. He was staring at the table in front of him, a small blue table that was circular except for cloth that came over in my direction, and upon further inspection, I realized the cloth hung over four sides of the table. I turned to study the woman in blue more closely. She wore blue high heels which seemed very uncomfortable to walk in. Then again, I'm a dude, so what would I know, right? Her blue velvet coat covered her until her knees, and I couldn't determine if she was wearing leggings or stockings or if it was part of her outfit by some other manner. She held a large, black book in her lap, with both of her hands clasping it tightly. Her coat had three rings with gold fabric lining the inside, and her eyes were also as gold as the fabric, shocking me. I opened my mouth to say something, but the quiet man with the long nose beat me to the punch. “Welcome, to the Velvet Room,” The man said in a calm voice. As he opened his eyes, I was startled. His eyes had one small, black pupil, and the veins near the edges of his eyes bulged red, causing me to feel a little sick to my stomach. “The Velvet Room? How can this be a room? Aren't we in a car!?” I exclaimed, confused. “Ah... It seems we have a guest with an intriguing destiny...” The man followed this with a chuckle, ignoring my statement entirely, “My name is Igor... I am delighted to make your acquaintance.” I look around nervously before responding, “Hi, Igor. Glad you introduced yourself. Now, would you kindly explain where I am?” Igor obliged, in his own way, “This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter... It is a room that only those bound by a contract may enter... It may be that such a fate awaits you in the near future,” As he said this, I felt a massive chill run down my spine, “Now then... Why don't you introduce yourself...?” He motioned for me to speak, so I did, “Hawke. Robert Hawke. My parents didn't name me nor have me in Japan. It was I who requested to return.” Igor nodded in understanding, “Hm... I see. Now, let's take a look at your future, shall we?” “How can you do that? Are you some kind of prophet?” Igor chuckled at my question before he waved his hand above the table in front of him. A stack of mysterious looking cards appeared on the table. “Do you believe in fortunetelling?” Igor asked, expectantly. Before I could answer, he waved his hand and the cards separated themselves onto the table. ''How in the hell!? ''He chuckled, probably noticing my reaction, “Each reading is done with the same cards, yet the result is always different,” He chuckled once more, “Life itself follows the same principles, doesn't it?” The cards themselves were blue, like the room, with a mysterious face on the back. Igor motioned for the card on the far right, and it flipped over. On the front looked like some kind of Tower, getting hit by lightning. “Hm... The Tower in the upright position represents the immediate future. It seems a terrible catastrophe is imminent,” Igor said matter-of-factually, worrying me further, “The card indicating the future beyond that is...” With the same motion, the second card, the one on the far left flipped over, revealing a crescent moon. I noticed the woman in blue, sitting quietly, not surprised at all by Igor's abilities. “The Moon, in the upright position. This card represents hesitation and mystery... Very interesting, indeed. It seems you will encounter a misfortune at your destination, and a great mystery will be imposed upon you. In the coming days, you will enter into a contract of some sort, after which, you will return here. The coming year is a turning point of your destiny... If the mystery goes unsolved, your future may be forever lost.” As he spoke those cryptic words, the back of my brain started screaming for me to get the hell away from him, from this room. The problem thus became how to exit. “My duty is to provide assistance to our guests to ensure that doers not happen,” Igor continued, referring to me as a guest. He waved his hand and all the cards faded into nothingness, “Ah! I have yet to introduce my assistant to you. This is Margaret. She is a resident of this place, like myself.” She acknowledged me for once, “My name is Margaret. I am here to accompany you through your journey.” Igor spoke once more, “We shall attend to the details another time. Until then, farewell...” The room faded out, and the dream ended, with me just as confused as it had started.